


further along, farther away

by spearbi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (between jisung and seungmin), Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, POV Alternating, a Big Boy, kissin, spiderman homecoming au, spiderman! seungmin au, superhero au, u should watch spiderman homecoming to read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 07:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17279420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spearbi/pseuds/spearbi
Summary: They stare at each other for a few long moments.“You’re Spiderman?” Jisung says lowly, his voice deepened by sleep and something else Seungmin can’t quite put a finger on.Seungmin nods jerkily. “Yeah.”





	further along, farther away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jisquish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisquish/gifts).



> _"but heart remains constant, no passage of time_." - further along, farther away, SNOWMINE

SEUNGMIN

Time is a strange, finicky thing. Depending on the situation at hand, it can either fly by or drag on and on, slow and sticky like molasses. When he’s Spiderman, time flies like a roost of startled pigeons; wild and blurred and wind-whipped. When he’s suited up, time almost doesn’t exist.

(That’s impossible. He knows. He’s just a romantic at heart.)

Right now, time is molasses for Kim Seungmin- viscous and suspended in slow motion. He licks the sweat forming on his upper lip and smooths out the wrinkled piece of notebook paper clutched in his hands. He’s fought giant lizards, angry radioactive cheerleaders, and even aliens, but t _his_? This is the most terrified he’s been in his entire life.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Seungmin slowly slides down the face of his locker until he hits the floor, wincing a little at the sensation. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, pushing his circular glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Let’s go over this one more time.” 

A bead of sweat trickles down his temple, and he brushes it away irritably.

_Hey, Jisung-_

_I know this might come as a bit of a surprise to you, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to homecoming with me this year. And not as a friend. See, I like you, Sungie- like you like you, like the protagonist in all of your otome games.. I’ve liked you for a while, actually- and I was hoping you liked me too._

_~~I’m actually in love with you.~~ _

_~~Please say yes my self-esteem is very fragile~~ _

“Shit!” Seungmin curses softly. He stares at the smudged paper for a moment longer before crumpling it into his fist. It’s silly and a little stupid, needing to write out countless letters before settling on one to read to his best friend of nearly eleven years.

_You’d choke up otherwise_ , the rational part of his brain reminds him. _Jisung has that affect on you._

“Yeah, he does,” Seungmin grumbles mutinously, getting to his feet and kicking the door of his locker lightly (not noticing the dent he leaves behind), “I’m a superhero with a genius IQ and I still don’t have the ability to tell him how I feel.”

“Boy trouble?” Seungmin whirls around, startled. It’s just Yuqi, hair loose and curly as always. She’s dressed sharply in a wool turtleneck and black skirt, and she’s got several dusty looking textbooks in her arms. She’s Seungmin’s other best friend- and the only person who knows about his “night job”, as she calls it. They’re both on the debate team at District High, Yuqi being one year his senior- she’s graduating this year. Seungmin trusts her with his secrets, even though he’s known Jisung longer.

(Sometimes, secrets are easier shared with somebody you aren’t as close with.)

“Oh,” He says, a little embarrassed. The crumpled confession letter is shoved hastily into the back pocket of his worn denim jeans. 

“Hey, Yuqi.”

She smiles gently, her cheeks dimpling. Leaning in, eyes wide and purposefully exaggerated, she whispers, “Is this about Jisung again?”

To his heightened senses, she might as well be screaming the words down the empty hallways. It’s lunchtime and students rarely linger around the lockers in the junior wing, but he winces regardless and grabs her by the arm, dragging her along with him as he walks.

“Not so loudly, okay? But yeah. It is.”

Yuqi hums amusedly. “Well, if you’re going to ask him to homecoming, here’s your chance. I think that’s him over there.”

And yup- there he is, eyes bright, hands waving animatedly as he talks with Lee Felix, sophomore and friend to the three of them. Jisung looks- well, he looks good. He always does. His hair is an ashy blue this month- it’s always changing and how his scalp isn’t dying Seungmin will never comprehend- and his eyes are lined with something sparkly and peach that makes them seem even larger.

“Jisung! Felix!” Yuqi calls glibly, yanking her arm out of Seungmin’s to wave it at the two of them.

“No- what the actual shit, I’m not ready at all-,” Seungmin splutters as Jisung perks up, his smile bright. Their eyes meet, and Seungmin has to physically hold back a sob of disbelief at how lucky he is to be friends with the most beautiful person alive.

“Seungmin!” Jisung cries, breaking out into a sprint, combat boots slapping against the sad linoleum floor, and Seungmin thinks he hears Yuqi giggle before he’s hit with about 140 pounds of teenage boy at full speed.

“Hey, Sungie,” He croaks, smiling into Jisung’s hair. Jisung squeezes his arms around him in response, burrowing his face into the crook of Seungmin’s neck. He’s always been like this- affectionate and touch-starved, and while Seungmin with his hyper-sensitivity usually can’t bear too much stimulation, he’s fine if it’s Jisung.

It’s okay if it’s with Jisung.

“Physics was so boring,” Jisung whines, letting his head flop against Seungmin’s shoulder. “It’s all numbers and equations and it just doesn’t make any sense to me. I have no idea how you like it.”

Seungmin laughs softly, playing with a strand of Jisung’s hair with his forefinger and thumb. It’s getting long; Jisung’s mother will probably chop it ‘short and ugly’ again soon, according to Jisung.

(Seungmin secretly adores it.)

“And I’ll never understand how you manage to draw so well, just from your own mind. My artistic capabilities are limited to stick figures.” He might be the math whiz, but Jisung’s talent with a brush and charcoal will never cease to amaze him.

Jisung snorts. “You’d be surprised at how much stick figure art can sell for.” He pulls away, and Seungmin quietly mourns the loss of contact before moving on. 

“Anyways, did you buy tickets for homecoming?”

Seungmin freezes. Yuqi and Felix snap their heads to look at him in tandem, eyes wide. “What?”

Jisung blinks. He motions at Yuqi and Felix with a loose wave of his hand. “We already bought tickets- you’re the only one who hasn’t committed to going yet.”

 _Ask him, coward_ , Yuqi mouths over Jisung’s shoulder. Felix nods rapidly beside her, shooting him two thumbs up. Seungmin swallows. His throat is dry. This is it: the moment he’s been preparing for for the last three months.

_Deep breaths, Seungmin. You’re Spiderman. You’ve saved the world. You can do this._

“Jisung,” He says quietly. Jisung looks up, and maybe it’s Seungmin’s imagining things, but he thinks he sees Jisung’s eyes darken. 

“Yeah?” The shorter boy breathes, and then Seungmin’s phone rings, startling the both of them. More specifically, ‘Hollaback Girl’ by Gwen Stefani blares from his iPhone, letting him know that Mr. Stark is phoning.

Saved by the bell, Kim. “Uh, sorry, I need to take this,” He stutters, fumbling with the device. “It’s the- it’s internship stuff.”

“Oh,” Jisung says flatly. “Internship stuff.”

Felix winces, almost dropping his chocolate bar, and Yuqi allows her head to fall into her hands with a weary sigh.

Seungmin isn’t paying attention, however; his focus is solely on the tight voice speaking into his ear. “Hey, kid. Got a little problem that I need some help with.”

“What’s up, Mr. Stark?” Seungmin says eagerly, trotting some ways away from his friends to get some privacy. “Did you like that droid prototype I sent you? I thought it could be helpful for cutting down the amount of time you needed to suit up.”

“Yeah, it was pretty ingenious, actually,” Mr. Stark says, voice momentarily losing some of its edge, “But I’m about four minutes and thirty seconds from being hacked into tiny, cube sized pieces by an angry arms dealer, so I’d really appreciate it if you could get your little spidey-ass over to Stark Tower like. Immediately.”

“Yeah, gosh, okay!” Seungmin exclaims, worried at the impending doom of Iron Man but also touched that Tony Stark is asking him for help. “I’ll be there right away, Mr. Stark! Sir!”

“Thanks, kid,” Tony says, swearing loudly as somebody screams in the background, “And for the record: I gave Happy the day off today. So don’t go thinking that this is going to be a regular thing.”

Seungmin pouts and bends over to rustle through his backpack, making sure that his suit is all present and accounted for. “Yes, sir.” He sighs forlornly, but Mr. Stark has already ended the call. Seungmin straightens up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. 

“Sorry, guys!” He calls, jogging backwards. “Mr. Stark needs me for, uh, internship stuff. Talk to you later!”

“Wait!” Jisung yells back, his brows furrowed. “Are we still on for after school?”

“Yeah, sure!” Seungmin replies absentmindedly, already halfway down the hallway. Jisung practically lives at Seungmin’s place- Aunt May doesn’t even bother trying to regulate the amount of time they spend together anymore.

“He’s never around these days,” Felix states through a mouthful of chocolate and caramel, flipping a pencil between his fingers. “That internship must be pretty tiring.”

“It is,” Yuqi murmurs, staring down the hallway. “I think it really takes a lot out of him.”

“I didn’t even know he was doing an internship until you guys told me,” Jisung says sourly, shoulders slumped. “I feel like he doesn’t even care about me anymore.”

Yuqi sighs and reaches over to lightly pat the younger boys’ shoulder.

“Jisung, you know that’s not true. Seungmin is... well, you know how he is. He’s not always the best at communicating. I think it would be a good thing to tell him how you’re feeling directly.”

The blue-haired boy perks up at that. “You’re right! I’ll talk to him about it after school.” 

Felix punches him lightly on the shoulder. “Attaboy.”

Yuqi giggles. Boys really are dense.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

SEUNGMIN

When Mr. Stark said he was four minutes and thirty seconds from being sliced-n-diced, Seungmin had thought that the older man had been exaggerating-something that he did more often than not.

 _Well_ , Seungmin thinks, narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half by a very tiny woman wielding a very large sword, _he sure wasn’t exaggerating._

“Woah, woah!” He laughs nervously, back flipping off of a desk and across the room, “Is that a sword or are you just excited to see me?” The woman screams, showcasing a set of very white, very pointy teeth.

“Please no bad jokes while fighting,” Mr. Stark groans from where he’s pinned against a pillar by two other tiny, angry women, “I think it just makes her more pissed off.”

“Fine!” Seungmin yells, webbing the arms dealer in the face, causing her to stagger around and wave the sword blindly, “But just remember that _you_ need _me_ in this situation, so I wouldn’t go around making demands.”

“Fine!” Mr. Stark shouts back, coughing as one of the henchman shoves her (tiny) fist into his mouth. “Whraht the fbck?”

“Дайте мне мои деньги!” The lady screams, still trying to pull the webbing off of her eyes and mouth. Seungmin webs her up, as well as her two henchman, before turning to face a very disgruntled Tony Stark.

“Thanks, kid. I’d probably be distributed in dozens of garbage cans all over New York if it weren’t for you.” He scratches the back of his neck, taking in the damage caused to his workshop. (It’s salvageable.)

Seungmin pulls off his mask with a sigh of relief. The revamped suit Mr. Stark made for him is awesome, but it’s still a suit and he’s still a teenage boy. Shit is _sweaty_.

“The angry lady asked for her money,” Seungmin says, peering up at the older man. “How much do you owe her?”

Tony squints down at him. “You speak Russian?”

“What, like it’s hard?” Seungmin says innocently, tilting his head as Mr. Stark throws his hands up in the air. 

“Smart kids. I swear to God.” He whirls around to poke Seungmin right in the centre of the spider decal on his chest. “Technically, yes. I owe her money. But technically she owed me money, so it negates itself. She’s at fault here.”

The arms dealer yells something at him, but it’s garbled and indecipherable behind the silk webbing. 

Seungmin shrugs. “If you say so.” He’s not particularly interested in the fine details of whatever illicit and definitely illegal thing his ( boss? mentor?) is involved in. 

“Am I good to go back to school now?”

Mr. Stark looks at him appraisingly for a long while before nodding. “Yeah. And before you go-,” He fishes something small and metallic out of the pocket of his rumpled sweatpants.

“-,Here’s the key to the labs. Figured that it was about time you could play around with proper equipment. Anything less would be offensive to your big brain.”

Seungmin gasps, his hands flying to his face. “Oh my gosh! Thank you so much, Mr. Stark! Oh wow! I can come around any time? Like, any time at all?” He tentatively reaches out and takes the sleek key from the older man’s palm.

Mr. Stark smiles at that. It’s tiny and barely imperceptible, but genuine. “If Pepper and I wake up at three in the morning to find you blowing shit up in my labs, I will kill you.” 

Seungmin nods vigorously. “Affirmative, sir. I’ll. Uh. Leave you to clean up, now.” 

Letting out a little whoop of joy, he turns and jumps out of the broken window, thirty-two stories up.

“Affirmative,” Tony echoes, shaking his head with an amused grin. “What an oddball of a kid.”

“Be nice,” One of the henchmen rasps in broken English, her eyes narrowed. “He good kid.”

“He good kid,” Tony agrees. He turns to the three angry Russians.

“Now, what to do with you...”

🕸️🕸️🕸️

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin intends to go back to school after helping out Mr. Stark, but halfway between Stark Towers and District High he hears people crying out for help, so obviously he goes to check the situation out. After rescuing a frightened pit bull from a tree- “Thanks, Spiderman! I don’t know how she manages to climb up there every time, but you bet I’ll be keeping her on a leash from now on!”- he intercepts a purse thief with a kick to the head paired with a witty quip. 

And then- well, you get the idea. People are always in need in New York City, and there’s only one Spiderman to go around.

One thing leads to another thing, and before he knows it he’s spent the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening helping people out and taking out bad guys. He does a lot of thinking too; about what he’s going to cook up in Mr. Stark’s lab, what he’s missed at school- but mostly he thinks about Jisung. To be specific, he thinks about what’s best for Jisung.

Jisung loves Spiderman. Seungmin is always a little weirded out sleeping over at his place, because Jisung’s walls and ceilings are plastered with posters and HD fansite photos of his masked body. There’s even a little shrine in Jisung’s closeted dedicated to Spiderman, complete with shiny chrome figurines and candles, and Seungmin gets chills just thinking about it.

It creates a fear rooted firmly within him that Jisung likes the Spiderman side of him more than he does the Seungmin side of him. It’s stupid, maybe, and definitely immature to think that way, but he sees the way Jisung’s face lights up when a video of Spiderman pops up on his Twitter feed. He watches how Jisung glows when he talks about Spiderman, about how cool and pretty he is, and he wilts just a tiny bit.

From a technical standpoint, Jisung is in love with him, but being technically in love is nothing like real love at all.

 _Maybe it’s best for him if he doesn’t know how I feel about him_ , Seungmin muses, crawling up the side of a Wall Street skyscraper. _Because if I do tell him, it goes one of two ways. Either I tell him about this part of me, the Spiderman part of me, or I don’t. If I do, that puts him in danger, and if I don’t that could potentially drive a wedge between us and ruin our relationship for good._

The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more logical it is to just not say anything at all. To just keep things as they are.

 _It’s fine as it is right now, anyways_ , Seungmin thinks, ignoring how his heart twists at the thought of his best friend holding hands with someone else. Kissing someone else.

_It’s for the best._

He lands on the roof of his house around nine pm, totally and absolutely tuckered out. It’s a nice kind of exhausted, though; the kind of pleasant ache one gets from knowing that they’ve done something productive and good. It’s one of Seungmin’s favorite feelings.

He decides to not go through the front door and wake Aunt May, but opts to slip through his bedroom window instead, which he always leaves slightly ajar just for that purpose. He slides through the window, wincing as the wooden sill brushes against fresh bruises. His skin looks like a bad watercolour painting most days- downsides of being a superhero with very human skin.

_Curse you, Mr. Banner._

The mask comes off, and Seungmin makes a face in the semi-darkness at how sticky and sweaty his face is. It’s a wonder that his skin still manages to stay so nice. A faint rustling from the direction of his bed makes him freeze. Faint breathing. _There’s somebody there._

Instinctively, he crawls up his wall and squishes himself into the corner of the ceiling, eyes narrowed. His abilities might mean he doesn’t need glasses anymore, but spiders have always had useless eyes anyways, relying on vibration and touch instead.

Too late, he remembers his promise to hang out with Jisung after school. A sleepy little voice speaks up at the same time he has this revelation.

“Seungmin?”

Jisung. He can feel hands hitting the side of the wall, blearily reaching out for the switch on the lamp beside his bed. The little vibrations from the contact make his teeth rattle.

 _“Do not turn on the light!”_ He whisper-screams, but it’s already too late.

The lamp flickers on, throwing the room from pitch black to warm gold. Jisung is crouched at the front of Seungmin’s bed in his Spiderman pajamas, mouth hanging open. His blue hair is unruly and messy, cowlicks sticking up like little horns on either side of his head. He’d be painfully cute if it weren’t for the situation.

Seungmin swallows. “Um.” They stare at each other for a few long moments.

“You’re Spiderman?” Jisung says lowly, his voice deepened by sleep and something else Seungmin can’t quite put a finger on.

Seungmin nods jerkily. “Yeah.”

His voice comes out tight and scared, trembling. _Please don’t hate me_. He slowly crawls down from the ceiling and jumps onto the carpeted floor of his room, his gaze fixated cautiously on Jisung the entire time.

Jisung moves to slide out of Seungmin’s bed but ends up tumbling onto the floor, his legs caught in the twisted sheets. Seungmin reaches out to help him up, but hesitates. He’s still in his suit. He’s in his suit and he’s facing Jisung without his mask on. Every single cell in his body is screaming at him to stop, to reverse this, but he can’t.

He can’t fix this.

He crouches down in front of Jisung. “Please don’t be weirded out?” It’s more of a question than it is a statement, and more of plea than it is a question. Jisung looks up at him, eyelashes dipped in gold light. His skin looks like honey and he smells like cinnamon. Seungmin is still in love with him.

“You’re not cosplaying?”

Seungmin does a double take. “What? No!”

Jisung narrows his eyes. “Then prove it.” Seungmin lets out a chuff of laughter. 

“If you insist.” He aims carefully and shoots out webbing, pulling one of his physics textbooks off of his desk and towards them in a split second. 

“There,” Seungmin says, waving the textbook around. “Now do you believe me?”

Jisung balls his hand up into a fist and swings right at Seungmin’s face. He grabs Jisung’s wrist instinctively and holds it in an iron grip, his arm not even wavering and Jisung struggles.

“Sungie, what the fuck?”

“Let go!” Jisung shouts, and Seungmin slaps his free hand over the shorter boys’ mouth to silence him. 

“Please be quiet,” Seungmin begs. “Aunt May doesn’t know and you’re freaking me out!”

“I’m freaking you out?” Jisung hisses, his breath hot against Seungmin’s palm, even through the fabric of his suit. “You’re fucking Spiderman! I have a Tumblr blog dedicated to your hands! I have a literal shrine in my bedroom dedicated to you and you’ve seen it! Multiple times! I want to move to Tibet and become a monk!”

“Oh,” Seungmin whispers. “I honestly really didn’t even think about that.”

“This is so humiliating!” Jisung cries, his face flushed and screwed up. If Seungmin is being entirely truthful, it was a little weird, yes, but it was also very endearing.

“I am not endearing,” Jisung hisses petulantly, and with a flush of embarrassment Seungmin realizes that he’s spoken his thoughts aloud.

Slowly, Jisung calms down, and Seungmin carefully retracts his hands from the shorter boy in response. Jisung sniffs thickly. “Are you crying?” 

Jisung wipes away what are clearly tears off of his face with one hand. “No.” _Yes._

Seungmin doesn’t even think twice before pulling Jisung in for a hug, careful and deliberate. He hugs Jisung all the time- hugged him earlier that day, even- but this. This feels different. Something has changed in the balance of their friendship. The scales have shifted, have tipped, and Seungmin still can’t see where or how they’ll even out.

Jisung’s fingers curl up and into the material of Seungmin’s suit, and he lets loose a little hiccup. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” Seungmin whispers to the top of Jisung’s head, voice a little wobbly. 

“I was scared things would change.” 

_I was scared you’d get hurt somehow._

“I’m still mad at you,” Jisung says quietly, pressing his wet face into the crook of Seungmin’s neck with a little sigh, “But if you explain everything- and I mean everything, to me, then maybe I’ll forgive you.”

He sounds mad, but Seungmin can feel Jisung smile a little against his neck. He lets out a big exhale. Maybe it’ll be okay.

(And it was. Sort of. )

🕸️🕸️🕸️

JISUNG

Han Jisung is too forgiving, sometimes. It’s one of his greatest flaws, and his greatest strengths. He’s kind to a fault, and he always puts other people before himself, even when he shouldn’t. Seungmin knows that about him. Seungmin knows Jisung like the back of his hand, and in turn Jisung knows what makes Seungmin tick.

He knows that Seungmin always needs to keep his hands busy, always needs to fiddle with something or he gets nervous. Seungmin is passionate, but he can get tunnel vision about the things he’s passionate about and miss the bigger picture sometimes. Seungmin only eats his apples sliced, and he has an acute fear of being abandoned by the people he loves. Jisung knows so much about Seungmin.

But he doesn’t know this side of Seungmin, this huge part of Seungmin that he managed to keep away from Jisung for months and months. Almost a whole year. And that terrifies Jisung, because it means that maybe he doesn’t know his best friend as well as he thinks he does.

_When Jisung was in first grade, he was the target of bullying. He was scrawny and short back then, and painfully shy to boot. The other kids were too afraid of the trio of tough boys that picked on Jisung to do anything other than watch the abuse from the sidelines. All of them, except for Seungmin._

_He hadn’t even known Jisung. They were in different classes, Jisung a transfer student, but Seungmin had marched up and stood in front of Jisung’s antagonists, eyes steely. “Leave him alone,” He’d said. His voice had wobbled a little, but his chin was held high and his gaze was steady._

_“Or what?” One of the older boys had scoffed, cracking his knuckles. “You’re just a little ba-,”_

_And then Seungmin punched him in the face._

_The both of them had gotten their asses whooped, of course, a pair of first-graders being no match for a troubled pack of fifth graders, but it was the thought that counted._

_Seungmin had dragged him to the library in a last-minute attempt to shake Jisung’s tormentors off their trail, and it worked. The elderly librarian eyed their matching bloody noses with a mix of concern and annoyance as they sped past her desk, but said nothing._

_They collapsed into a pair of beanie bags in the fantasy section, breathing heavily. “I’m Jisung,” Jisung said after a long moment, “But you can call me Sungie if you want.” Seungmin gave a little wave. He looked a bit concussed. “I’m Kim Seungmin.”_

_He rummaged around in his backpack for a bit before pulling out a slightly squashed sandwich._

_“You want half?”_

_Jisung eyed it suspiciously. “What’s in it?”_

_“Peanut butter and tuna.”_

_Disgusting, Jisung thought, but accepted his half anyways. Closing his eyes, he took a bite, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it worked, somehow. It was good if he didn’t think too hard about what was in it._

_“Why did you stand up for me back there?” Jisung whispered, making a faint noise of disgust as his nosebleed dripped onto the sandwich. Seungmin shrugged, his cheeks shoved with sandwich. He looked like a chipmunk._

_“Yow haajw kiwadn eysf.”_

_“What?” Jisung asked again. This boy was a little strange- not that he minded, really. It was cool that he knew how to pack a punch._

_Seungmin smile sheepishly. “You have really kind eyes. And people used to pick on me too- I wish I’d had somebody to stand up for me back then.”_

_“Oh,” Jisung said, pressing a hand to his chest. Something fluttered briefly inside his ribs, warm and buzzing and gentle. He ignored it. “Want to come over after school today?”_

_“Sure,” Seungmin grinned, and from that day forwards they were inseparable._

Jisung hadn’t known it back then, but it was at that moment he started to fall in love with Kim Seungmin. It wasn’t a stunning revelation- more of a comfortable presence. It’s like breathing, or like riding a bike for the first time in years- natural, easy. 

Loving Seungmin is so, so easy that it hurts sometimes.

Seungmin’s head and heart is in the clouds and in his science and math textbooks; he doesn’t have the time to pick up on how Jisung feels. And Jisung is okay with it. He really is. Secretly, selfishly, he’s glad, because that means Seungmin won’t fall in love with anyone else for the time being.

Being in love brings out the best and the worst in a person.

How strange of him to fall in love with two parts of the same boy. The difference is this, however: Jisung adores Spiderman, but Seungmin is his superhero.

Oh dear. He feels really weird about having a Spiderman thirst blog now. He’s definitely going to have to delete that now.

Maybe.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin is good at talking, so he talks. He tells Jisung about how it all started: with a radioactive spider. He tells Jisung about the Avengers and how his internship at Stark Towers is still kind of an internship, except he’s the only intern and he and Mr. Stark just kind of awkwardly work together sometimes. He explains how his abilities work- the ones he can explain, anyways.

“Wait, what about your spidey-sense?”

“Don’t call it that,” Seungmin whines, flopping back onto his bed. He’s showered and changed out of his suit and into flannel pyjamas. Jisung kept poking his head around the bathroom door to make sure that Seungmin was actually there and not a figment of his imagination. 

“That’s such a cringey term. It’s more like a sixth sense. I just know when something that’s not right is about to happen. Like a gut instinct, but much stronger.”

Jisung pinches his side, hard, and Seungmin yelps, whacking his best friends’ hands away.

“Dude, ouch!”

“Why didn’t that make your spidey-sense go off?”

“I told you, don’t- whatever. It’s because I know you’re not a threat to me,” Seungmin mutters, feeling a little stripped bare in the dim glow of his Spongebob lamp. “I guess I know at my most basic level that you’d never do anything to really hurt me.”

Jisung makes a little choked noise. “Oh. Makes sense.” He flops down next to Seungmin, and together they stare up at the little glow-in-the-dark stars on Seungmin’s ceiling. They’d put them up there together, years ago- Cassiopeia, Orion, Ursa Major, Vulpecula- but it felt like it had only been yesterday.

Time is a strange thing, indeed. 

“Minnie,” Jisung breathes. “I’m sleepy.”

Something velvet and heavy hangs in the air between them. It’s a strange, soft kind of tension, and it’s not necessarily unpleasant.

Seungmin swallows. “Okay.” He reaches over Jisung and flicks off the ugly Spongebob lamp. He tenses as Jisung softly burrows against his side, hands reaching out to lie flat against his against his chest. Not for the first time, Seungmin is reminded of a koala, and he lets out a little snort.

“What’s so funny?” Jisung slurs, a heavy and comforting weight against him as he lies back down.

“Nothing,” Seungmin says, and after a pregnant pause, “Do you hate me?”

Silence.

“Maybe,” Seungmin clarifies, “A better question would be: are you afraid of me now?”

Jisung hums, low and honeyed with the promise of sleep. “No to both. Love you, Minnie.” He pokes Seungmin’s calf with his foot. “Go to sleep. Stupid.”

“Okay,” Seungmin whispers, blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears. It’s going to be okay. Slowly, he wraps an arm around Jisung, pulling him closer. 

“I love you, too,” Seungmin breathes, but Jisung is already fast asleep.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

SEUNGMIN

And things stay the same, mostly. Well, there are a few big key changes that Seungmin picks up on over the weeks after the Big Reveal. Jisung gradually becomes less touchy with him, withholding his big hugs and his cuddles. And it’s shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is. He also observes Seungmin more and talks less- Seungmin will look up in class just in time to catch Jisung’s gaze flickering away from him. They still talk, still laugh, but Jisung doesn’t stay over again after that night and it hurts more than it should.

Aunt May asks him why Jisung hasn’t come around and he can only shrug.

 _You knew this would happen if he found out_ , he tells himself. _Just be glad that he still wants to be around you._

He knows he’s not imagining things, either, because one day Jisung’s older brother corners him after Calculus. “Hi, Chan,” Seungmin says, a little nervously, because handsome men intimidate him. Chan smiles wanly at him, but there’s a little spark of something behind his eyes. 

“Hey, Seungmin. Haven’t seen you around our place much.”

“You know how hectic midterms can get.” Seungmin supplies, shoving his math textbook back into the confines of his locker. “All that studying is super draining.” _And so is running around the city in a suit for extended periods of time in order to avoid my best friend, who may or may not hate me._

Chan steps forward quietly, and as he does Seungmin’s sixth sense flares up. Tingles. _Scary._ “Did you do something to hurt my little brother?” 

He swallows and shakes his head.

“No. I’d never hurt Jisung.”

“Well,” Chan says, looking him square in the eye, “Somebody has. And you’re the only person who could get him this mopey, so I suggest that you fix this. Fast.”

Jisung has been mopey? Quieter, yes, and definitely distant, but mopey? Seungmin can’t quite wrap his head around it. Chan wouldn’t sniff him out and intimidate him otherwise, though, and despite finding Jisung’s older brother terrifying, he’s quietly grateful for the information.

 _I’ll talk to him_ , Seungmin vows, snapping the lock onto his locker with determined passion. _I’ll sort whatever this is out right here and now._ He spins on his heel and stalks down the hallway, his scuffed Converse beating out a squeaky tempo on the floor. 

Jisung has a spare block with Felix today, like he doesn’t every Friday, so the both of them are probably in the... library.

Seungmin’s pace slows. Through the big glass doors leading into the library he can can both Felix and Jisung, curled up together on one of the ugly, overstuffed couches the library has to offer. Seungmin stops walking abruptly, as if roots have tied the soles of his feet down down down into the earth.

Head swimming, he watches Jisung rest his head on Felix’s’ shoulder, watches the both of them shake with laughter at something the other said. As if in slow motion, he watches Jisung lean in and kiss Felix- a real kiss, an honest-to-god kiss. The kind of kiss that you see in movies: slow and soft and incredibly romantic. 

Seungmin feels something crack deep inside of him.

All Seungmin can think is, _that should have been me_. And then his heart shatters into a thousand microscopic pieces, sharp enough to draw blood.

Felix meets his gaze through the library doors, eyes wide. He says something, and Jisung spins around, but Seungmin is gone, gone up up and away from Jisung and Felix and his stupid shitty high school.

It’s only when he’s suited up and sitting on an abandoned roof garden forty miles away from home does he allow himself to have a good and proper cry. A pair of pigeons shuffle away from him as he sobs into his hands, shoulders shaking. It hurts, really hurts, because deep in the back of his brain Seungmin has always held out in the hopes that Jisung would look at him and see him in a different light. It doesn’t look like that’s ever going to happen, now. 

So Seungmin cries, not only for himself, but for he and Jisung’s friendship. 

The scales aren’t even any longer.

Eventually, the sound of a small explosion several blocks south snaps him out of his crying jag. He straightens up, wipes his nose and eyes with the back of his hand. 

_Enough is enough, Seungmin. There are people who need saving._

Eyes still watering, he pulls on his mask, allowing the tightness in his chest to dissipate. “It’s fine as long as he’s happy,” Seungmin confides to a confused looking pigeon.

“As long as he’s happy, I can handle it.”

The pigeon coos sympathetically, and then poops. Seungmin sighs. “Yeah. It’s shitty.”

Another explosion balloons upwards, illuminating the evening sky, closer this time. It rumbles through the bottoms of Seungmin’s feet, spreading upwards through his calves.

 _That’s not good_ , Seungmin thinks, and jumps off the roof of the building. The wind whips at his body as he free-falls, and Seungmin allows the adrenaline rush to wash away all thoughts of Jisung, to wrap him up neatly in a box and put him on a dusty shelf in the back of his head. 

As he draws nearer to the source of the explosions, he’s able to make out the streams of people running away from the area, abandoning cars in their haste to get away.

“Wow,” Seungmin mutters to himself. “This doesn’t look good.”

“IT’S NOT,” A voice says, and Seungmin startles before relaxing. It’s just Karen- the AI part of his suit. “A GROUP OF MASKED PEOPLE JUST ROBBED THE FEDERAL RESERVE BANK. THEY’RE TAKING HOSTAGES- RANDOM CIVILIANS.”

She projects a glowing holographic screen in front of his eyes- grainy camera feed. Five masked men decked out to the nines with heavy-duty weapons, leaving with carts of money.

Seungmin swears. “Shit.”

Karen hums, flat and robotic. “SHIT, INDEED.” She pauses. “AS FOR YOUR OTHER PROBLEM- THE HAN BOY-,”

“You heard that?” Seungmin screeches, twisting his body mid-air so as to avoid being sacked by a lamppost. Karen makes a crackly sound that could be interpreted as an apologetic noise.

“MR. STARK NEVER EQUIPPED ME WITH A REST MODE. I RECORD EVERYTHING YOU DO AND SAY IN THIS SUIT.”

“That is so fucking creepy, Karen. I’m genuinely so uncomfortable right now.”

Karen sighs. “ANYWAYS. I’D HIGHLY RECOMMEND THAT YOU TALK TO HIM DIRECTLY INSTEAD OF AVOIDING HIM AND IGNORING YOUR FEELINGS LIKE A COWARD.”

“Okay, ouch. Mr. Stark made you to help me fight crime, not give me free therapy, you know.”

“MAYBE IF THIS COUNTRY HAD FREE THERAPY THERE WOULD BE LESS CRIME.”

Seungmin touches down on the side of a building. “Let’s shelve this discussion for later, okay?” He tilts his head to one side, looking for the robbers.

“You’re right, though,” He adds. “Free therapy probably would prevent a lot of crime.”

“MY BRAIN IS MADE OF ALL AVAILABLE INFORMATION THE INTERNET HAS TO OFFER,” Karen says almost smugly, “I’M ALWAYS RIGHT.”

“Jackass,” Seungmin grumbles. And- there. Huddled against the wall of a café are a gaggle of frightened people, flanked on all sides by men with big, glowing guns. _Guns are bad enough_ , Seungmin muses, sliding stealthily towards them, _but having them glow makes them even worse_. He makes a mental note to take one back to Mr. Stark afterwards, just to get it checked out- he’s never seen anything like it.

He takes in the scene: Five masked men standing off against the police line, detonators in hand, and behind them, the group of hostages, surrounded by three more masked men. 

And then there’s Seungmin, above them.

“Karen,” He says, squinting at the hostages, “Can you tell me if the hostages have any explosives strapped to their bodies?”

There’s a faint clicking sound near Seungmin’s ear as Karen’s processors work. “NO,” she says finally, “BUT THE MEN AROUND THEM ARE. AND THE HOSTAGES-,”

“That’s all I needed to know,” Seungmin interrupts, already swinging over to a building parallel to the café. “I’ll just take the men out and then web the hostages over here.” 

Karen makes an urgent, almost human noise. “SEUNGMIN. LISTEN TO ME.”

He does. “ONE OF THOSE HOSTAGES IS THAT BOY.” It doesn’t click, for a moment. Seungmin doesn’t understand what Karen is trying to say, but then his eyes catch a flicker of electric ash blue and his heart stutters a staccato in his chest. 

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

But Karen has a 99.9% accuracy rate, and this time she’s right. Jisung is huddled up against one of the café employees, face dusty and tight with fear. Seungmin’s heart leapfrogs in his throat, fear crashing up against his collarbones. 

“Karen, call Mr. Stark.”

“ALREADY ON IT.”

“I’m getting Jisung out of there first.” Karen says nothing, so Seungmin gets right to it. He runs forward, moving faster than he ever has in his entire life. He sneaks through the back of the coffee shop, avoiding crushed pastries and broken glass. The hostages and their guards have their backs turned to him now, and Seungmin takes a moment to steady himself. 

_Jisung first. Get him out first._ Point, aim, shoot: Seungmin pulls the armed man closest to him through the broken window, webbing him to the floor, right over the heads of the hostages.

Startled, they turn around, and Seungmin pulls a finger to his masked face, over his mouth. Be quiet. They nod, and Seungmin chances a quick glance over at Jisung. Jisung’s face crumples- in relief, maybe, or a reaction to seeing Seungmin there. 

He nods. _It’s okay._

His sixth sense flares up, and Seungmin turns just in time to catch the end of a large, glowing gun. One of the remaining two masked men leers down at him, his face obscured by an ironically cheerful panda mask. 

“Well, if it isn’t Spiderman! What an honor.” Panda laughs, and waves the other masked man- this one wearing a smiling fox mask- over. 

_Shit_ , Seungmin thinks, eyeing the rows of explosives strapped over Panda’s face. He kicks out with his left leg at Panda’s wrist, wincing slightly as something snaps with a loud crack, forcing Panda to release the weapon.

A gravelly voice causes him to freeze in his tracks. “Don’t move, unless you want me to blow- let’ see- Blue’s brains out onto the pavement.” Fox pulls a pale Jisung from the group of hostages and shoves the mouth of the gun against his sweaty temple. Seungmin pauses, and fights back the urge to burst into tears.

“He’s a pretty one,” Panda says, slick as an oil spill. “Such a shame that it’s all going to go to waste.”

“Let go of him,” Seungmin grits out, voice dangerously close to breaking. Jisung covers his mouth with one shaking hand.

“Kind of pointless to fight now,” Panda points out, tossing a slim detonator stick between his leather-clad hands. His stance is loose, easy. Seungmin doesn’t like that. “Have an all-clear from the boss to blow this place sky high- needs a distraction to divert police attention from our guys carrying the money.”

“SEUNGMIN. MR. STARK WILL BE HERE IN TWO POINT FIVE MINUTES.”

 _I’ll stall until then_ , Seungmin decides, swallowing hard. 

“What’s the point of taking hostages when you could just kill the police? You clearly outnumber and overpower them.”

Fox giggles. Seungmin hates it when people giggle- it’s just so sinister. 

( _Jisung giggles sometimes, though_ , his brain whispers.) 

Correction: Seungmin hates it when _most_ people giggle.

“Because the boss wanted to draw you out here, of course. You’ve been interfering too much- you keep leading the cops on a breadcrumb trail right to all of our many operations. This was all for you, bug boy.”

“That... who’s your boss?”

Panda and Fox exchange a look. “I don’t see any point in not telling him,” Fox muses, “Seeing as we’re going to kill him.”

“Spiders are sneaky. Best to keep our mouths shut.” Panda argues, cocking his hip. “And we’re taking out everybody in a fifty metre radius, not just him.”

Jisung whimpers from behind them, and Fox crouches down until he’s eye level with the teenager.

“You don’t want that to happen, right? Because this city is fucked without bug boy. Stark doesn’t care enough about the small fry to do anything about the petty crime.” He holds the detonator right in front of Jisung’s nose, making the blue-haired boy go cross-eyed. 

“But everyone knows that petty crime ties right into the big stuff. You know that, I know that- Stark doesn’t know that. But Spidey does, and that’s why taking him out is gonna make boss’ life that much easier.”

“ONE MINUTE AND THIRTY SECONDS,” Karen reports. Time seems to slow in response, slowing the world around him- Seungmin sees Jisung blink, watches his lower and upper eyelashes kiss each other. Panda slowly stands, moving as though water.

He knows what he has to do.

First, he kicks the detonator out of Panda’s hand, noting the velocity and angle at which the device propels upwards. In the same second, he flip kicks the gun away from the side of Jisung’s head, the ball of his foot just missing the slope of his cheekbone. 

Fox grunts as Seungmin catches the gun and pistol whips him across the face with it.

“FORTY-FOUR SECONDS.”

Seungmin moves exactly four feet to the left, just in time to catch the detonator and give Panda a faceful of titanium-fortified silk webbing, rendering him immobile.

“TWENTY SECONDS.”

“Seu-Spiderman,” Jisung calls out weakly, voice wobbly, and Seungmin turns, palm curled carefully around the detonator. 

Seungmin turns and goes rigid. Fox is still conscious, and he has a detonator.

“SEVEN SECONDS.”

“Jisung-,” Seungmin breathes, taking a step forward.

“ONE-,”

Seungmin throws himself forwards, arms wrapping around Jisung.

Fox presses the detonator. And everything explodes.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

JISUNG

Back in the library, Felix had been showing Jisung videos of Broken Compass- a rap-singing duo comprised of two unfairly handsome men named CB97 and Spear B- but Jisung isn’t paying attention; not really, anyways.

He’s debating whether to ask Seungmin to homecoming. If Seungmin says yes- Jisung smiles a soft, secret smile to himself- If he says yes, he’d be over the moon, but if Seungmin were to say no...

“Jisung? Is everything okay?”

Jisung looks up. Felix is a good friend: kind and warm and caring. The two of them don’t have the kind of relationship that Jisung has with Seungmin- but then again, nobody has the kind of relationship the two of them have.

“I’m fine,” He replies, but his gaze is clouded and far away and Felix is nothing if not observant. The freckled boy puts his phone down and scoots closer to Jisung, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Is it about Seungmin?”

Jisung picks at a hangnail. “Sometimes I just- sometimes I wonder if I’m making the right choice by waiting for him to come around. I’ve liked him for so long that I don’t think I could ever like anybody else. I’m so sure that he’s like, my person, you know?” He exhales, shaky and quiet.

“I’m just scared that I’ll never be his person.”

Felix hums softly. The tungsten library lights cast a golden light on the tips of his blonde hair- it matches the color of the freckles scattered on his nose and cheeks. “I think the only way that you can do that is if you ask him- stop dancing around each other.” He snorts at the pout Jisung shoots him. “Don’t give me that. You know you do.”

“I do,” Jisung admits grudgingly, picking at a loose thread on the worn library couch. “But in my defense, Seungmin is never really around anymore for me to do any dancing around.”

“He’s just been busy with the internship, and school- I really don’t think there’s anything else, Sungie.”

But there is. Jisung knows there’s something else going on with Seungmin, and it’s been eating away at his insides for the past few months at a snail pace, acid in the back of his throat. In a moment of pure, desperate idiocy, he turns to Felix. 

“Can I kiss you? Like, just to see if I feel anything.”

Felix blinks. “I really don’t think that would be a good idea, dude.”

Jisung fists one hand in Felix’s’ thick Rip n Dip sweater. “Please, ‘Lix. I just need to make sure. I need to know that I’m still- that I-,” I need to know that I’m still a lost cause for Kim Seungmin.

And whether it’s out of friendship or out of pity, Jisung doesn’t know, but Felix nods. It’s short and almost imperceptible, but it’s enough of a green light for Jisung to steel his nerves and pull him in for a kiss. Felix’s’ mouth is warm and soft and experienced- he tastes like mint chapstick and milk chocolate.

 _It’s nice_ , Jisung thinks, eyes squeezed shut, _but it’s not Seungmin._

It’s nice, but Jisung doesn’t feel anything except guilt. With a shaky sigh he pulls away, shaking his head a little. 

“Sorry for asking you to do that. It was stupid.” Felix doesn’t respond, and Jisung winces, his eyes tracing the stains in the fabric of the couch.

“Jisung,” Felix says faintly, and Jisung’s gaze snaps up to meet his, “I think we fucked up.” His eyes are the size of his saucers, and he’s flushed an alarming shade of red.

“What?” Jisung says, confused. “It’s just a kiss- It didn’t _mean_ anything to you, did it?”

“No- no, that’s not it. Seungmin- he was just. He was just standing there.” Felix picks up his phone and starts texting frantically. “He saw us.”

“Oh, fuck,” Jisung gasps.

“Oh, fuck,” Felix agrees, but Jisung is already up and running after Seungmin, his backpack hanging onto his shoulder by one strap.

He’d looked everywhere after that- the whole school, Seungmin’s house, all their frequent haunts- but it’s hard to find a boy with superpowers when he doesn’t want to be found. Eventually, Jisung had given up for a little while. He’d ended up in a little 24-hour café, texting Seungmin’s phone furiously.

And then something- something _bad_ had happened.

“Jisung?” Somebody asks, voice much too loud for Jisung’s throbbing head.

“Ungh,” He replies, and attempt to lift his hand to cover his eyes. He makes a confused noise; _why can’t I move my hands?_

Blinking, he tries to sit up, but somebody gently places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down.

“Hello, Jisung,” A new voice says close to his ear, “I’m Doctor Kim Seokjin. I need you to not move around so much right now, because you were in an accident and you got hurt, okay?” 

The voice is clinical, but warm, and has a pleasantly reedy tone to it that makes Jisung trust him instantly.

“Okay,” Jisung slurs. It feels like his mouth has just been shoved full of cotton balls. He cracks open an eyelid, recoiling a little at the harsh white light. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but eventually he’s able to make out the two figures hovering over his bed. 

Not his bed- Jisung slowly turns his head from side to side, taking in the IV in his wrist and white walls- he’s clearly in the hospital.

“Hi, ‘Lix,” Jisung says by way of greeting, and Felix shakes his head, the smile on his face contradicting the tears in his eyes.

“Hey, Sungie.” He looks over in the direction of his door. “I’ll go get your parents- they just went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat.”

Dr. Kim watches him go. _Wow, he’s really handsome_ , Jisung thinks, and blushes when Dr. Kim laughs. “Don’t worry. I get that a lot.” He peeks over at the IV and fiddles with a few of the knobs before sitting back down in the plastic chair adjacent to Jisung’s bed.

“Jisung, I know you’re probably in a lot of pain, but the police are going to come in here and ask you some questions, okay?” Jisung nods slowly. 

“You’re probably confused- you’ve been sleeping for a while- almost a week, actually. Do you remember what happened?”

Jisung nods again, clearing the cobwebs out from the back of his skull. “Uh. Yeah- I was in the café, and then there were these masked guys with guns-,” He freezes. 

Seungmin. Seungmin had been there, as Spiderman. Closing his eyes, he thinks. _Where was he?_

“Where’s Spiderman?” Jisung blurts, sitting up a little more. “Did he get hurt?”

Dr. Kim frowns slightly at that, the corners of his plush lips pulling downwards. “Jisung,” He says gently, eyes kind, “You were the only survivor.”

Jisung bends, and then he breaks.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

JISUNG

The police come and ask him questions, and Jisung responds robotically, mechanically, tears running down his face. His parent holds him and cry, and Jisung cries harder, not for himself but for Seungmin. For the things he should have said to him, but didn’t.

That first week in the hospital is the lowest Jisung has ever been. He won’t eat, can’t sleep, and won’t speak to anybody but Felix. The pain he experiences is the worst he’s ever felt- both physically and emotionally, and it leaves him breathless and puffy eyed.

Felix tells him the little details, what Dr. Kim and his parents won’t- that Jisung had been found burnt and broken, the charred bodies of the twelve other hostages and three assailants crumbling around him. He’s lucky to be alive, the hospital staff whispers when they think he isn’t listening, it must be a miracle.

He has a two broken arms and a fractured leg, bruised ribs and second degree burns on his neck and face. 

“You’ll have a complete and total recovery,” Dr. Kim tells him on his second week in the hospital. “You’re a very lucky kid.”

 _It’s not luck_ , Jisung thinks. _It’s nothing like luck at all._

The internet loses its shit over the absence of Spiderman.

DEAD OR IN HIDING? Headlines scream from the TV monitor in the corner of Jisung’s room. WHERE IS THE MASKED AVENGER? People theorize on forums, say awful things, and Jisung eventually just avoids social media altogether for the sake of his own mental health. 

Yuqi visits, too, and it’s on one of those evening visits that they both tell Felix about Seungmin’s night job.

“Jesus Christ,” Felix mutters afterwards, leaning back into his chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on the fact that he’s a web slinging badass.”

Yuqi laughs. “If it makes you feel any better, it took me a long time too. I didn’t even really know until he told me.”

Thanks to his hands, he can’t really use his phone yet, so Felix and Yuqi do the searching for him- and, eventually, the phoning. That’s the first thing that allows a tiny kernel of hope to sprout in Jisung’s chest, because when Felix calls Aunt May and asks where Seungmin is, she gives them a half-baked excuse. 

“Seungmin? Oh, he didn’t tell you? He’s shadowing one of the scientists at Stark Labs for the next few weeks. I’m so proud of him.”

“When is he going to come back home?” Felix doesn’t even try to hide the disbelief in his voice.

“In a little while,” Aunt May says firmly, and then she hangs up.

The three of them stare at each other silently, mouths hanging open. “He’s definitely still alive, then,” Yuqi says slowly, unwrapping a granola bar. “I mean, she wouldn’t go to all this trouble to make up a cover story if he was-,” She shoots a furtive glance in Jisung’s direction before continuing- “Not alive.”

“I think you’re right,” Jisung breathes, a little smile creeping onto his face for the first time since the Incident (as the three of them have come to call it).

“I think he’s still alive.”

Felix lets out a breathless _thank fuck_ , and covertly wipes away a few tears. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” Yuqi mumbles around a mouthful of nougat and oats, her eyes tired and sleepy.

Felix flashes her a sharp, brilliant grin. “As soon as Jisung is able to walk, we’re going to go right up to Stark Towers and make Tony Stark take us to Seungmin.”

“An excellent plan,” Jisung cheers. Yuqi squeezes his hand, eyes sparkling. 

After that, Jisung does his very best to Get Better, which involves a lot more effort on his part than he expects. Dr. Kim notices, and pats Jisung on the shoulder happily whenever he checks up on him.

( It feels like a victory when Felix wheels him out the hospital doors at the very start of the third week, his parents promising him his favorite fast food when they get home. Felix, Yuqi, and Jisung all share a very Significant Look when they part ways. _Tomorrow_.)

🕸️🕸️🕸️

JISUNG

Felix rings the buzzer.

A voice comes through the sleek silver box, crackly and irritated. Not Tony Stark. “What.” 

Felix leans a little closer. “Um, we’d like to speak to Mr. Stark?”

“I’ll say the same thing I’ve told you before: We don’t want any more Girl Guide cookies! Mr. Stark is on a strict diet.”

“We’re not girl scouts,” Jisung says. “I know that Mr. Stark knows where Seungmin is and we want to see him.”

Silence. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Seungmin is my best friend. He saved me during the robbery a few weeks back.” Jisung pauses and lowers his voice before speaking. “We also know that he’s Spiderman.”

“Aw, fuck!” The voice complains. There’s a clattering noise that comes from the grainy speaker, as if whoever was speaking had just knocked several fragile things over. “I’ll buzz you in. One second.”

The three friends exchange a glance. “Easier than I thought.” Yuqi says thoughtfully, wheeling Jisung towards the shiny glass and chrome entranceway. “Guess we won’t need those disguises.”

Felix sighs dejectedly. “They were so cool, too.”

A beefy, red-faced man in a suit is waiting for them in the lobby, arms crossed and expression thunderous. “Follow me,” He says, and then makes his way across the marble floor to a set of elevators.

“Who are you?” Felix says suspiciously, giving the older man a once over.

The man scowls. “I’m Happy. Mr. Stark’s bodyguard.”

Jisung fights back a snicker. “You don’t look very-,”

Happy shoots him a withering look. “Don’t even think about saying it, Wheels. I’ve heard it all before.”

 _Wheels?_ Yuqi mouths at him as Happy hits the button for the fortieth floor. Jisung just shrugs and shakes his head. The energy in the elevator is tense and restless, and the higher the elevator climbs, the higher Jisung’s anxiety climbs also. 

_Please let him be okay, god. Please just let him be okay and in one piece._

Eventually, the ding of the elevator doors opening breaks the stifling silence, and Happy leads them out into a clean hallway with a terse “Follow me.” There’s only one door visible, and it’s at the very end of the hallway. They get about halfway down the corridor when the door opens and Tony Stark steps out.

He’s wearing a grease covered tank top and loose black sweatpants, but it’s Tony Stark. “Holy shit,” Yuqi murmurs, and Jisung silently agrees. It’s so surreal meeting somebody you’ve watched on the news and seen in books and comics and thirst posts online that Jisung is momentarily stunned into silence.

(Seungmin doesn’t count. He’s different.)

Happy makes a strangled, irritated noise. “Hey. Boss. Some kids are here to see you.”

Mr. Stark looks up from his phone. “Oh! Hi.” He trots over to them, yawning widely. “Are they scouts? I thought I told them that I literally can’t eat those thin mints anymore. My metabolism isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“No,” Happy growls. “They’re here to see the kid.”

Jisung can see Mr. Stark recalibrating. “You’re here to see Seungmin?” Mr. Stark leans down to look Jisung squarely in the eye. 

“Ah. You’re Jisung, aren’t you? Seungmin talks about you. A lot.”

“I thought he was dead,” Jisung whispers, his vision blurring at the corners with unshed tears. Mr. Stark straightens up, panic flickering across his face- he’s clearly not equipped to handle crying teenagers. 

“Uh, no. I mean, he was pretty banged up from taking the brunt of the explosion, but I arrived shortly after and was able to get him back here. He’s fine- he just needed somewhere safe to heal up.”

Yuqi slumps against Felix’s’ shoulder with a sigh of relief. “Can we see him?”

Mr. Stark clicks his tongue and checks his sleek phone again. “Yeah, sure. Just don’t be like, super loud or anything. And don’t touch any of the equipment, or your children’s children will be paying the fees off if you break it.”

“Nice!” Felix says, and sprints down the hall towards the open door, Yuqi and Jisung following closely behind. Mr. Stark sighs. “Jesus. Happy, would you mind-?”

“I’ll need a couple hours of overtime if you want me to babysit, boss.”

Tony rubs his temples. “Fine. Okay. Just make sure they don’t break anything important. Including Seungmin.”

Happy grunts, already jogging away. “Hear you loud and clear.”

The room at the end of the hallway is open and clean, with large glass windows on one side and a large bookcase on the other. In the center of the space is a large, white bed, with several monitors surrounding it.

_Oh, that’s a robot_ , Jisung realizes, watching the little device putter around the room, dusting the shelves and cleaning the floors.

“Mr. Stark?” Comes a faint voice from the bed. Heart in his throat, Jisung cranes his neck to see and- there he is. He’s pale, and more bandages than skin from what Jisung can see, but it’s Seungmin.

“You go first,” Yuqi says to Jisung quietly, and he nods, heart fluttering in his throat. “We’ll give you two some privacy.”

“You break anything, I break you.” Happy threatens, but there’s no bite to his words.

Jisung carefully wheels over to the side of the bed, wincing as his wrists throb slightly in protest. ( _“You can wheel yourself around a little, now,” Dr. Kim tells him, rewrapping his arms,_ _“But don’t strain yourself.”_ )

“Seungmin,” He breathes. He can’t hold back the little sob of joy when Seungmin blinks his eyes open and looks over at him. Emotions flit over his best friends face- disbelief, joy, sorrow, and something else that Jisung can’t quite translate.

“Sungie,” He rasps, a little smile tugging up the corner of his mouth, and Jisung starts crying, loud and ugly and embarrassing. Seungmin reaches out with a shaky, bandaged hand to grab Jisung’s own matching one.

“Don’t cry,” Seungmin whines softly, and Jisung hiccups, wiping away the tears and snot on his face with the crook of his elbow. “I thought you were dead- nobody would tell me anything for weeks, ‘Min. I was so scared.”

Seungmin gives a little laugh at that, his eyes sparkling. “It takes a lot more than two assholes with explosives to take out Spiderman, Sungie. I heal fast, but I was beat up enough that Mr. Stark had to take care of me.”

“He’s nice,” Jisung muses, and Seungmin nods. “Nicer than I thought he’d be.” _Kind of immature, though._

“Yeah. He is.”

Jisung hesitates. “Seungmin,” he ventures, brushing his thumb over the back over Seungmin’s split knuckles, “About the whole thing with Felix-,”

Seungmin tenses. “Don’t,” He mumbles, eyes averted. “You don’t have to make excuses for me.”

“No- wait, what? I just wanted to tell you that it wasn’t- it didn’t mean anything. I was just- confused and upset, and I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Seungmin is quiet for a moment. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

It’s now or never. Better to say it than to never be able to at all. Jisung takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Seungmin,” He starts, feeling his cheeks heat up, “Do you remember that time in first grade when you punched Jaime Fisch in the face?”

Seungmin snickers, wincing as the motion jars his bruised ribs. “Yeah. He was a real piece of work.” Jisung hums. 

“He was. And it was during that that I-,” He clears his throat. “That was the moment that I fell in love with you?”

_Oh my god. Oh my god I actually said it out loud._

He chances a look over at Seungmin, his cheeks red. The taller boy’s’ face is strangely blank, devoid of any emotion. “Seungmin?”

“You’re not joking.” It’s a statement, not a question. Jisung shakes his head, chest tight. 

“I’m not joking. I like you. I like you like you, and I was so scared of telling you because I thought you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.” He gives Seungmin’s hand a little squeeze. “I’m sorry. I’m in love with you; I have been for a very long time, and I think I’ll continue to be. I just wanted you to know, because- because I realize now that nobody knows how much time they have left, and I wanted you to know. Just in case.”

“Ah,” Seungmin manages after a moment, cheeks darkening, “Me too.”

Jisung thinks that his hearing might be going, because Seungmin just said me too and- “Sorry, what did you say?”

Seungmin meets his gaze, handsome even under a pile of bandages and bruises, and Jisung feels a flock of butterflies explode in his stomach. _Oh dear_. “I said me too. I-,” He opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words. “Can you grab my notebook out of my backpack?”

He lifts a shaky hand and points over to where his dirty (and singed ) backpack rests on top of a desk. “Okay,” Jisung says softly, and wheels over to the desk, pulling the backpack into his lap. “This one?” It’s a small, black notebook with dog-eared pages and warped paper.

“Uh-huh,” Seungmin murmurs. “Open it.”

Confused, Jisung obliges, and freezes at the first page.

_Hey, Jisung-_

_~~Dear Jisu~~ _

_I know this might come as a bit of a surprise to you, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to homecoming with me this year. And not as a friend. ~~See, I’m in love with you~~ I like you, Sungie- like you like you, in the way the protagonist in all your otome games likes people._

_I’ve liked you for a while, actually- and I was hoping you liked me too. ~~Oh my god I can’t believe I’m writing this this is so incredibly embarrassing~~ ___

___~~I’m actually in love with you.~~ _ _ _

___~~Please say yes my self-esteem is very fragile~~ _ _ _

__Jisung flips to the next page, and it’s the same block of words, edited slightly. It’s the same way the next page, and then the next- one letter, reworded and reworked a thousand times._ _

__“I wanted it to be perfect,” Seungmin says, and Jisung jumps a little. “But I could never work up the courage to say it out loud. I wanted to ask you to homecoming.”_ _

__Jisung wheels back over to Seungmin. “Well,” He responds, “I definitely would have said yes.”_ _

__This is the Best Possible Outcome; it’s something that Jisung had fantasized about for years, and to hear that Seungmin was probably just as grossly enamoured with Jisung as Jisung was with him was fucking incredible._ _

__Seungmin ghosts his hand up Jisung’s hand to gently grasp his wrist, pull him closer. Jisung notices the way his fingers tremble against his skin, hummingbird wings, and smiles. “Would you still say yes?”_ _

__“Yes,” Jisung breathes, and shivers quietly at the blinding smile Seungmin gives him, all white heat and bright lights._ _

__As if drawn by magnets, they lean in towards each other, the beeping of the medical equipment and clicking of the cleaning robot fading into the background. All Jisung sees is the amber of Seungmin’s eyes, shot through with cinnamon and caramel._ _

__“Yes,” Jisung says again, answering Seungmin’s unspoken question, and Seungmin hums low in the back of his throat and brings his hand up to cup Jisung’s cheek. They’re close enough now that Jisung can feel the heat coming off of Seungmin’s skin, smell the mint toothpaste on his breath. He closes his eyes, heartbeat sprinting, and-_ _

__Happy bursts through the door, face pinched. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”_ _

__Seungmin and Jisung spring apart, faces red, looking away from each other. Happy squints at them, realization dawning on his features._ _

__“Aw, man. Sorry, guys.” He scratches the top of his head awkwardly. “I really don’t get paid enough for this.”_ _

__Jisung screams quietly into his hands, and Seungmin just gives Happy a tired, tired look._ _

__Felix peeks his head around the door. “Can we come in now?”_ _

__Seungmin perks up, “Felix!” He cries, and then that soft, warm moment between himself and Jisung is lost- _but not for good_ , Jisung tells himself, glancing down at his lap, where Seungmin’s fingers curl through his._ _

__Just shelved away for later._ _

__🕸️🕸️🕸️_ _

__ SEUNGMIN. (ONE MONTH LATER.) _ _

“Aunt May? Am I doing this right?” Seungmin calls, making a face at his reflection in the mirror. _Why are ties so damn hard to tie? They just doesn’t make any sense_. His aunt pokes her head into the bathroom and chuckles, gently batting his hands away. 

“You’re just like your father: brilliant, but unable to understand the ancient art of putting on a tie.” 

“Do you think he’d be proud of me?” Seungmin asks, and Aunt May’s fingers freeze on the loop of his tie before continuing to move. 

“I know he is.” She replies, straightening out the material easily, “And I know that he approves of Jisung as well. A very nice boy.” 

“Aunt _May_ ,” Seungmin whines, and she laughs, the lines around her eyes deepening. 

“Have fun tonight, okay? I know this year has been a lot for you. It hasn’t been easy, but you’ve soldiered through all of it and I am so proud of you.” 

“Thank you,” Seungmin chokes out, and he pulls his aunt in for a big hug, makeup be damned. “I love you, you know.” 

Aunt May snickers and ruffles his carefully gelled hair. “I know, goober. I love you too.” She swats him on the butt. “Now get going. Have fun. Be a teenager.” She holds out the bouquet of flowers, and Seungmin accepts them carefully, making sure not to crush any of the petals in his hands. 

Seungmin smiles down at them. “Okay.” 

He still can’t believe that Jisung likes him back, still can’t believe that Jisung wants to be with him. _I must be the luckiest person alive_ , he muses as he steps through the front door of his house, making sure to close the door behind him. _It still feels so surreal._

Between school and healing and Spiderman, the two of them haven’t really had a lot of time to hang out together by themselves in the last month, and it’s slowly driving Seungmin crazy, because all he wants to do is hold hands with Jisung and kiss him for hours. 

_Tonight_ , Seungmin declares silently, making his way down the street towards Jisung’s place. _I’ll make sure to do that tonight_. He fights back a wave of nerves as he walks up the porch steps and rings the doorbell to his best friend’s house. 

Jisung’s mother answers the door, an easy smile on her face. “Seungmin! Jisung will be right down- oh, don’t you look _handsome_ in that suit!” She coos, and when Seungmin wrinkles his nose she laughs, loud and clear. 

Jisung’s voice floats from down the stairs, and the both of them turn. “Seungmin’s here?” Oh, he looks good. He’s in a two-piece black suit, with a tie that matches his freshly dyed blue hair, and his eyes are rimmed with kohl. 

“Hey,” Jisung says faintly, his eyes wide. “You look really, really, nice.” 

Seungmin smiles, chest warm. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Jisung scoffs and gives his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing Seungmin’s hand and pulling him down the walkway. “Let’s go.” 

"Wait,” Seungmin says shyly, whipping out the bouquet of flowers, “These are for you.” (He spent a long time researching the right flowers to use- delicate sprigs of baby’s breath, clustered around bunches of gardenia, jasmine, and rose.) 

Jisung accepts it wordlessly, and tightens his grip around Seungmin’s hand. 

If Seungmin were a cat, he’d be purring with contentment. 

They walk like that in comfortable silence for a little while, the city pulsing and humming around them, alive and strange. Seungmin’s head is whirring, gears clicking, thinking about all the things that could go wrong or happen. He doesn’t want to get hurt like that again, and he doesn’t ever want Jisung to be in a position where he could be injured again, ever. Jisung pokes his cheek. 

“Hey. Stop overthinking. We’re fine.” 

“You know me too well,” Seungmin complains, nudging him with his shoulder. “I can’t ever be brooding and edgy around you.” 

Jisung laughs, his eye shadow sparkling in the dim light, and Seungmin almost leans down and kisses him, really kisses him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he wraps an an arm around the shorter boys’ waist. 

“Want to do something really fun?” 

“Does it involve me putting myself in any potentially life-threatening situations?” Jisung asks warily, but wraps his arms around Seungmin anyways. 

Seungmin shrugs. “Maybe.” And then he catapults the both of them upwards, swinging from apartment to apartment. 

“Oh my god!” Jisung shrieks, his arms tightening around Seungmin’s waist and nearly punching the air from his lungs, “I’m too young to die!” Seungmin shoots him a shark-toothed grin. 

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t drop you. Probably.” 

“I hate you,” Jisung says, shoving his face in the crook of Seungmin’s neck. “I really do.” 

“No you dooon’t,” Seungmin singsongs, shooting another web upwards, “You _like me_.” Jisung grumbles wordlessly and peers over the top of Seungmin’s shoulder. Seungmin smiles. The city moves past them in a blur of neon lights and sound, the wind whipping through Jisung’s hair and sliding over his skin. It’s oddly peaceful; it’s one of the things Seungmin loves most about being Spiderman. And now he can finally share it with Jisung. 

“Where are we?” Jisung asks when they land. “This isn’t homecoming.” 

“I just wanted to show you this place,” Seungmin replies, removing his arm from Jisung’s waist and lacing their fingers together instead. “This is where I like to come to think and just. Exist, you know? There’s nothing around here. It’s just me and the birds and the city.” 

Jisung hums and walks around, taking in the overgrown rooftop garden and the waves crashing on the beach in front of them, closes his eyes and listens to the pigeons crying softly in the eaves around them. 

“It’s calm.” He peers over the edge of the roof, at the overgrown bushes and driftwood lining the abandoned sidewalks. “I can see why you like it.” 

“I like you,” Seungmin says without thinking, and then blushes. Jisung giggles and leans his head on Seungmin’s shoulder. 

“I know. I like you too.” 

Seungmin widens his eyes comically. “Wow, really? I had no idea! You only text me pictures of cute houses and caption it with stuff like, ‘let’s raise four dogs and two gerbils in this one’-,” 

Jisung kisses him, shutting him up effectively and also almost giving him a heart attack. _Oh, okay_ , thinks Seungmin, making a little noise in the back of his throat as Jisung curls his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulls him in closer, _so this is happening_. The bouquet of flowers falls to the ground from his slack hands, windblown and crumpled, but no less pretty. 

Kissing Jisung is like- it’s like coming home, really. Time distorts and parts, seconds counted in kisses and the stuttering tempo of Seungmin’s heart. Jisung tastes like citrus and honey, and it’s clear that he’s nervous, maybe more nervous than Seungmin, his kisses soft and a little clumsy. Seungmin kisses him back, urgent and hot, and Jisung shivers, sliding his hands down the sides of Seungmin’s neck to splay out flat against the muscle of his back. 

_I love you_ , Seungmin thinks, pressing a kiss to the underside of Jisung’s jaw, catching his breath, _I love you enough that I’d pull the moon and the stars and all the constellations down from the sky for you._

(He really is a sentimental romantic.)

And then Jisung bites down on his bottom lip, probably by accident, but it's enough to make Seungmin’s thoughts scatter and his head spin, enough to spark a fire in his veins. Jisung tastes like citrus and honey. He’s Seungmin’s best friend, and also his boyfriend, and he loves all the different sides of Seungmin. 

_I’m lucky_ , Seungmin thinks, pulling Jisung closer, _so lucky._

He doesn’t know how long they kiss; time falls away like the space between them. Eventually, though, Jisung pulls away, red-faced and panting. “Wait- what time is it? I don’t want to miss homecoming.” Reluctantly, Seungmin pulls his phone out and checks the time. 

“If we leave now, we can just make it.” 

“Yeah,” Jisung echoes, “We could.” They stare at each other, a sweet kind of tension hanging in the air between them. 

"You know,” Seungmin ventures, “Homecoming will still be there next year.” 

Jisung raises a perfectly styled eyebrow, his mouth twisted up in a soft smirk. “Kim Seungmin, are you suggesting that we ditch homecoming to continue making out on this abandoned rooftop?” 

“I... yes?” Seungmin squeaks helplessly, flushing as Jisung leans in and drapes his arms over his shoulders. 

“Well,” Jisung says thoughtfully, bumping his forehead against Seungmin’s, “High school dances are always so _overrated_ anyways.” 

When Jisung kisses him, time slows, and Seungmin smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> merry belated christmas, and happy new year, india. i love u lots and i hope the world is kind to you in 2019, because u deserve it <3
> 
> ((ps. thank u pluto for giving me feedback n helping me out!!! lov u writing legend!!!!!))
> 
> (((pps this was really fun to write.... hm. happy new year, everyone!)))


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